Release

Fred, newly indoor-outdoor cat,

likes to bring in his finds

for us to exclaim at. Magpie-cat,

peddler-cat, hobo-cat, treasure-cat.

That section of vine he trotted in with yesterday

had eyes. Wary-eyes, scary-eyes, little brown

gem berry-eyes. Still as a vine but velvety, segmented.

Still life. Still alive. Now, I’m not one to touch a snake,

but could not stop to think; popped him in the teapot,

leaving Fred bereft. The opulent ribbon poured

from the pot onto the glass topped table; exotic jungle tea.

Unmarred, thank God. Satin smooth. We took a little walk,

friend snake and I. Found the perfect rock, and he turned

liquid bronze and flowed beneath, a shape-shifter.

A little garden god. Granting my wish; wonder.